


I Loved You First

by morning_star28



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:07:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morning_star28/pseuds/morning_star28
Summary: It started with a drunken kissZach realised he loved Eugene firstEugene took a little longer to fallBut sometimes love isn’t enoughThis is a story of how they didn’t end up together





	1. Everything is fine, we’re okay

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Zagene fic ever and even though they don’t end up together here, doesn’t mean I don’t ship it! The idea came from what if they really got together? And what if they broke up? Because.. life! What would become of them? If that ever happened, I’d want them to stay friends and work it out because you know Ned’s got a newborn baby and he has to eat lol So even though they don’t end up here, I hope it’s not a horrible read, if it gets read at all XD

Present

Eugene Lee Yang plastered the brightest smile on his face. His facial muscles were fighting him, but he would be damned if he ruined today of all days. 

He couldn’t help the tears that had escaped his carefully orchestrated cheer, but maybe if he smiled convincingly enough they’d believe he was crying tears of joy and sharing in the magical moment. Because even a cynic such as himself had to admit it was pretty fucking magical. 

The bride and groom stood with their hands entwined. Her dress, which Eugene grudgingly conceded, was beautiful. It was a simple white silk gown, but it was the very simplicity that allowed the wearer to shine. 

And the groom was eating it all up. 

In his black three piece suit and small bow tie that matched his canine ring bearer’s, he was sharp and adorable all at once. 

The sun shining, not a single cloud in the sky daring to mar their day, and shushing waves gently coming in were their backdrop. It couldn’t get anymore perfect. 

“You may now kiss the bride.”

As his lips met hers, Eugene closed his eyes.

* * * *

2 years earlier...

  


“Hey, hold the elevator!”

Eugene knew that voice. He pressed the close doors button frantically. It didn’t work. A pale hand appeared between the doors and as they opened, a small head looked up and slate blue eyes framed in black rimmed glasses blinked at him.

“Made it,” Zach Kornfeld, a small Jewish man, grinned. He was baby faced and nerdy. If it wasn’t for the stubble on his cheeks and the fading hairline, he could have passed for fifteen. Whacking Eugene in the arm, he moved to stand next to him. “No thanks to you.”

Clearing his throat, he stared straight ahead. “Have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Geez, you don’t have to make this weird. I mean if anyone is going to be weird about it, it should be me.”

“I don’t like you!”

“I know.”

“You do?” Eugene could hear the surprise in his voice as well as the disbelief. The response was too flippant. He glanced warily at the younger man who was the cause of his aggravation. 

Infuriatingly unbothered, he was watching the elevator numbers steadily increase as he sipped at his drink, only to grimace darkly at the takeaway cup after a particularly big gulp. “I’m giving up coffee and today is the first day. Should tea taste this bad or is it just a side effect?”

Eugene could feel his anger rising. Maybe if he had slept last night, he would have been grateful for Zach’s inane babble and found comfort in the normalcy. But he hadn’t slept - at all. 

Instead he’d tortured himself with endless scenarios of this very encounter. He’d imagined everything from an awkward Zach who would avoid him for days until he confronted him to sort the misunderstanding to having to deal with HR for harassment to losing a friend over a stupid mistake. 

Never in his imaginings had he pictured an unaffected Zach coolly sipping at his drink, albeit with a disgusted frown. But the disgust wasn’t because of him, but a lack of caffeine.

_Why wasn’t the disgust directed at him?_

“You’re okay with last night?”

Zach cocked his head to the side in question. God, he was being annoying on purpose, damn him. “Shouldn’t I be?”

“I kissed you!”

“Yeah, so?”

“What do you mean so? Aren’t you worried I’m into you? Shouldn’t your macho instinct be offended or something else stupidly homophobic?” He slashed his hand in the air, annoyed he had to spell it out for him. 

Instead of being jolted with the recognition that he wasn’t exactly reacting like a normal person, Zach laughed. “Well, for starters I’m not much of a ‘macho’ guy, so _there’s_ that. And secondly, I must say that is super heterophobic of you.”

“Hetero-what? That’s not a thing!”

“Well, it should be. Not every straight person is going to be a dick about your sexuality or get weird about it and you shouldn’t assume they would!”

_“Zach.”_

At the warning, Zach held his hands up sheepishly. “Okay, okay, joking aside, it’s true. We don’t have to make a big deal about this. You were drunk. People do dumb shit when they’re drunk, it’s not a big deal. And I know you don’t like me.” The ding let them know they’d reached their floor. Eugene watched him step out, only to step back in between the doors to keep it from closing. “You coming or what?”

“You’re not going to freak out?”

“Do I need to?” Then his friend and co-worker grinned and bracketing his face with his hands, he breathed his signature, “oh my god~ Are you -are you actually in love with me?”

That was enough to prompt Eugene into laughing. Shoving past him, he smirked. “As if. Me? Into you? Gross.”

“Okay, now that’s just hurtful.” But judging from the teasing glint in his eye, Eugene knew Zach didn’t mean it. Surprisingly, he really was okay with everything. 

Hitting him in the shoulder, he grinned, “thanks for not making this weird.”

“Just be glad you didn’t kiss Ned, can you imagine his reaction?”

Relaxing fully now, Eugene rolled his eyes, “he’d probably mention his wife a dozen times.”

“Hey, I have to run something by Ashly, I’ll see you later?”

“Okay.”

And Eugene meant it. Everything was okay. He’d worried all night for nothing. Zach had actually, sanely, come to the right conclusion without any prodding from him, which was a pleasant surprise. If only every problem was resolved this effortlessly.

Now he was sure it was a non-issue, Eugene turned his mind to something that really mattered. Food.

The open office set out made it easy to see who was and wasn’t in. “Hey Quinta,” he stopped by his friend’s desk. “What are we having for lunch?”

“It’s only 8.30, Gene,” she didn’t even bother to look up. Her hair was in two French braids today and she looked comfy in her sweater dress, her scandal clad feet tapping lightly as she caught up on her emails.

“Are you telling me you’re not thinking about lunch?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Okay, so what are we having? I’m already starving.”


	2. Really, it was all Ned’s fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, it was going to be only Zagene, with Ned and Keith briefly mentioned, but then I realised it’s hard not adding them into the story, so I gave up on that and this is the result lol

Zach dumped his half empty cup into the trash and escaped into a stall. The grey walls boxed him in and the faint scent of someone’s morning shit wafted in the air, which was kind of appropriate considering how much he’d talked out of his ass this morning.

Tugging the toilet lid closed, he sat down and dropped his head into his hands. His heart raced uncomfortably in his chest and he felt himself start to hyperventilate.

Zach wondered briefly if he could get away with leaving work early. He could say he was sick and it wouldn’t even be a lie. He was actually worried he was having a heart attack. 

Eugene had bought it, so he shouldn’t get suspicious if he left. Besides everyone knew how focused Eugene got when editing, he probably wouldn’t even notice his absence.

Last night, after filming the Try Guys two year anniversary, the guys and the rest of the crew had decided to celebrate with a few drinks. A few drinks had quickly turned into an unplanned night out.

It should have been like any other work outing. They lose sight of Eugene, someone vomits outback, Ned calls his wife and Zach leaves early.

But nothing had been normal about last night...

* * * *

  


_“Ned, that’s not your wife!”_

Dazed green eyes looked up at Sally, one of the interns assigned to the Try Guys, only to move lazily back to hands that were resting proprietarily on a well rounded derriere. “This isn’t... my wife?” He slurred as his hands flexed, eliciting a sultry laugh. 

“No!” She yanked him out of the giggling blonde’s embrace. “He’s married,” she gave her a dirty look.

Sally had started at Buzzfeed a month ago and in that time she had heard her manager, Ned Fulmer, mention his wife a million times. So she’d been shocked at the sight of him in someone else’s arms. 

She’d been about to ignore it and walk away, not wanting to become involved. It wasn’t any of her business. But then she’d heard the silly man call the female by his wife’s name.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to Ariel, my wife.”

Sally rolled her eyes, feeling herself sober up. She wasn’t being paid enough for this.

Spotting Zach across the room, she made a beeline for the shorter man with Ned in tow. He was a full time employee and this was _his_ friend. He should deal with it. “No need, we’re meeting her by the bar.”

“We are?”

“Yup, I think I see her now.” Sally huffed at her bangs. Her manager’s unstable gait and the crowded bar made the short walk across the room seem endless. Why were there so many people out on a Tuesday, she cursed, as she shoved at an unmoving patron, who didn’t understand excuse me. She definitely wasn’t being paid enough for this.

When they finally reached Zach, Ned forgot about missing his wife and his face lit up, momentarily filled with animation. “Zach! Zachy, Zachery, buddy. Don’t you think we don’t talk enough? We should talk more.” He draped himself all over his smaller friend.

Zach glanced quizzically at Sally from over Ned’s shoulder. She was red faced and actually wore a Eugene patented frown of disgust. The one he wore when he was completely done with the rest of the Try Guys and their antics. Zach tried imagining a female version of Eugene roaming the streets and immediately shut the idea down. One Eugene, of any gender, in the world was more than enough.

“Hey, Sally, is this knucklehead bothering you?”

Said knucklehead nestled his face closer into his neck and Zach felt something wet. _Goddammit, he was wiping his nose on him._ He was about to throw Ned off him when Sally’s words penetrated his revulsion. 

“I found him snuggling up to some lady over there. He thought she was Ariel. He’s drunk.” She tried not to glare, but was so vexed with the wasted man, she couldn’t help it. He’d killed the pleasant buzz she’d had going.

Placing a steadying hand on his friend’s back, Zach gave her an apologetic smile. “Okay, thanks Sally. And I’m really sorry, I’ll take it from here. I just hope you know he’s not norma-”

But their intern didn’t need to hear anything more, she quickly put some distance between them.

Leaning back a little, Ned grinned unabashedly and nudged him in the shoulder. “Why are you frowning, man? It’s a celebration. You need a drink. I need a drink. We should all drink to two years!”

“Idiot,” Zach sighed as he ordered his friend a juice, plopping him onto a stool.

He’d just finished ordering himself an Uber. He was tired and sore and hadn’t wanted to go out in the first place. But it was the two year anniversary of their Try Guys series. He hadn’t wanted to just bail. So he’d told himself he’d stick around for an hour.

He should have listened to the small voice that had demanded a bed and a hot water bottle instead.

They’d ended up at a dive bar, because someone knew the owner and promised the first round would be free.

The place was living up to its name as The Pit. It smelled beyond questionable, Zach hadn’t even wanted to try the toilets. He wasn’t sure what he would catch there. And the pool tables were occupied by patrons who scared Zach. Which admittedly wasn’t saying much, as a lot of things scared him. But he was over everything about the evening and now this bullshit had fallen into his lap.

He just hoped to hell Ned would get in the car when it arrived. He didn’t need any more trouble.

“Hey, it’s white boy number one and white boy number two. Where’s the other one?”

Zach looked up gratefully at the sardonic teasing. “Eugene!” It was a little embarrassing how grateful he sounded, but he couldn’t care less. He _was_ grateful. He’d just spent the last ten minutes trying to convince a drunk Ned that he wanted to go home and that, no, it was not a good idea to climb onto the bar and fall asleep. Sounding desperate at this stage was not a concern. “Can you help me get him outside? Our Uber’s here, but he’s unsteady on his feet and he’s not exactly the lightest person I know.”

“You mean you’re not the strongest person we know.”

“That too.”

“I don’t know, should I help you?”

God, Eugene was drunk. His eyes were glazed over and his inflections were more flamboyant than normal. Zach wondered which personality he was dealing with now. It wasn’t Ghost Eugene, who always disappeared without a word. He would have ran away as soon as he saw them.

“Besides I’m looking for someone interesting to fuck.”

_Horny Eugene._ Great. Better than Can’t Stand Them Three Eugene, but not by much.

“Help me with Ned first and then slut it up later.”

“How about you make it worth my while?”

He sighed impatiently. “How about you stop being a dick and help me?”

His eyes smouldering, Eugene leaned in close and ran a finger down the side of Zach’s face. “What if I’m being serious?”

“Then I’m a fucking Jewish princess.”

The taller man laughed, “you’d make the ugliest princess ever,” and turned to their inebriated friend. “Okay, ‘I’m Ned and I’m married’, let’s get out of here.”

Zach let Eugene haul their friend up and half carry him outside. His back was twinging with pain and he didn’t want a flare up in public, so he didn’t offer any assistance.

“Over here,” Zach rushed forward to open the door after reassuring the driver their friend wasn’t going to puke in the backseat. Eugene shoved Ned in roughly, thoroughly done with being helpful. “Thanks, Gene.”

Ignoring the death glare directed at him from his Asian friend, Zach turned to find Ned playing with the window, much to their Uber driver’s annoyance. “Now don’t do that,” he tried to stop him, only for Ned to shove his face away, which dislodged his glasses, effectively blinding him.

And because he couldn’t see, Zach didn’t notice the contemplative look Eugene gave him as he picked up the glasses and instead of handing them over, stepped closer.

“Maybe you are a Jewish princess.”

“What the actual fuck, Eugene. I can’t deal with two drunk dudes right now. Do you see my glasses? Fucking Ned.”

“You’re actually pretty hot without your glasses, either that or I’m super drunk.”

“Wh-” But Zach never finished his sentence, because at that moment Ned started puking in the backseat and Eugene pulled him into a kiss.

* * * *

  


“Hey, did you see last week’s game?”

The door slamming against the wall startled Zach back to the present.

“Yeah, it was shit.”

“Because your team lost?”

“No, because the ref was bloody blind!”

Shaking his head, he stood and felt his joints groan. He wondered how long he’d been sitting there.

Flushing the toilet, he stepped out like he’d just finished his business. The two guys at the urinal didn’t pay him any attention and he was glad.

Heading to the sink, he washed his hands and grabbed a bunch of paper towels. He was about to bin it when he saw his spilled drink at the top; the one he’d hastily got rid off, so he could hide in the toilets.

The sight reminded him that he’d panicked when Eugene stared him down earlier in the elevator and he’d blurted the first thing that came to mind to cover it. 

Of all the things he could have said, why did he have to say he was quitting coffee? He didn’t want to. Except now it looked like he had to.

Fucking Ned, it was all his fault.


	3. When nothing goes as planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith!

Keith Habersberger was a tall man. At 6’3”, he was the tallest of the Try Guys. He was also the most approachable, even when slightly hungover. That was why he found himself helping an intern grab boxes off the top shelf even though he wanted nothing more than to drop into his swivel chair and disappear into his desk for the rest of the day.

He was reaching for the second box when a group of people in conversation made their way towards them. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it other than they were contributing negatively towards his headache with their constant chatter, when he heard his friend’s name come up. 

“Wait, did you guys hear about Ned?”

“Ned?”

“The one from Try Guys.”

“What about him?”

“Well, apparently he was draped all over a stranger last night.”

“Isn’t he married?!”

“I guess there’s trouble in paradise.”

“And here I was thinking he was one of the few good guys left.”

The gossiping trio hadn’t yet turned the corner, so they didn’t see Keith’s frown or the intern clutching a box glance around uncomfortably, futilely seeking an escape.

When they did see them, they became busy with a meeting they’d forgot about, glancing at watches they didn’t have.

Keith scowled after them. “Can you believe people? They have nothing better to do with their lives but make up shit about others!”

The intern hesitated, then cleared her throat. “Actually... it’s true.”

Keith whipped his head towards the petite female. She was young and pretty with a short black bob, which framed a heart shaped face and big brown eyes. “Sally, right?” She nodded. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“Look,” she glanced around to make sure they were alone. “I’m not trying to make trouble. I’m only telling you this, so you know it wasn’t me that spread the rumour, which might seem counterintuitive as I’m adding to it now,” she rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly, but forged on determinedly. “I was the one that pulled Ned off that girl from the bar.” She held her hands up to stay his objections, even though Keith was too stunned to say anything. “BUT I never told anyone other than Zach about it and Ned thought the woman was his wife - she was about the same height and colouring, so I can see why - he was super drunk. Someone must have seen it, because I swear to god that it wasn’t me! Please don’t write a bad recommendation after this, cause I swear, _swear_ that I never breathed a word about it!”

And it was true. After escaping Ned and Zach, Sally had been tempted to vent her frustrations about the evening to Trey, another intern who’d started with her, only to realise that if the story got out it would only come back to bite her in the ass.

Who would write a good reference for someone who’d potentially ruined their marriage? Nobody. Sally hadn’t been drunk enough or mad enough to risk that. But it seemed she’d been cautious for no reason. The story had made its rounds anyway.

Squaring her shoulders, Sally braced herself for the worst. Could she get fired for this? She really couldn’t afford it. She’d just moved to LA and didn’t know anyone other than her roommate, who was a bitch. And her mother would just love, LOVE, for her to fail-

But instead of hellfire and accusations, Keith turned on his heel and left, which was both anticlimactic and worse than a confrontation.

She stood there relieved she hadn’t been fired on the spot, but anxious because he hadn’t exactly reassured her she wasn’t. 

Sighing, Sally realised she would only drive herself insane with imagining what was going to happen, so deciding to leave the problem alone until it came up again, she turned her mind to an issue that was more immediate. The box. Keith had left before getting it off the top shelf.

How the hell was she going to get it down herself?

* * * *

Zach dropped his keys onto the small table by the door and kicked his shoes off. He was about to drop onto the couch with a bone weary sigh, when a soft thud came from the direction of his bedroom.

Opening the door to his room, he found his houseguest on the floor, fighting and losing against the bed comforter. Zach briefly contemplated helping him, but opted instead to relish his struggles. He wasn’t feeling particularly charitable towards this guest anyway.

When a head finally breached the blanket cocoon, Zach straightened from the wall. “Having fun there?”

Squinting against the sunlight streaming in through the blinds, Ned scowled. His dark blonde hair was matted and unkempt and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking, probably feeling an unpleasant cottonmouths from last night’s excess. “What are you doing in my house?”

“You’re in my apartment, actually.”

Zach watched as Ned winced from moving his head around to confirm that he indeed was not in the comfort of his own home. “What happened?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you. You don’t normally drink that much and you sure as hell don’t drink so much you mistake strange women as your wife.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ned, what do you remember about last night?”

A loud knock cut through his would be reply, causing Zach to frown. “Who’s knocking at this time?” Normally he would be at work at this hour, so it shouldn’t be anyone he knew. 

“Answer it. _Please_ ,” Ned pleaded, grabbing at his head. Whoever was at the door was not about to be ignored; the heavy staccato caused his head to throb in time.

Releasing an expletive, Zach made his way to see who it was. He’d left work early to relax and think about what he was going to do. Instead he had a hungover Ned on his bedroom floor and someone looking to wake the dead at his door. He couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.

He was so fed up with everyone and everything, he swung the door open without checking who it was. “What do you want?”

“Where is he?” Keith pushed past him.

“What the he-”

“Ariel said he was at your place.”

Zach had barely recovered his footing when the air was knocked out of him. Framed in his opened door was the man he’d fled work from.

“Eugene.”

* * * *

Arms crossed, Eugene stood just outside Zach’s bedroom. The room was surprisingly tasteful, considering the occupier usually walked around like a dozen cats had spewed all over his wardrobe.

The room had the essentials, a bed, drawers and a chair in the corner, and they were all in solid neutral colours. Nothing kitty related dominated the walls or furniture, no quirky designs or bright colours. It was minimalistic and functional.

Sitting on the bed, Keith was directing a disappointed frown at Ned, who was still on the floor surrounded by a navy blue comforter, his head in his hands.

Leaning against the drawers on the far side of the room was Zach. Eugene waited for him to crack a badly timed joke to lighten the mood, but he never did. Instead he glared at Ned and kept mumbling under his breath.

It was all starting to make Eugene uncomfortable.

When Keith had found him earlier and let him know about the rumour that was going around and declared that they should get to the bottom of it, Eugene hadn’t thought much about it. He’d just been concerned for his friend and went along.

Now he remembered why he didn’t like to involve himself in these kinds of situations. He should have stayed at the office.

“Don’t you think it would have been better to come after work? What are they going to say when they find out not one, not even two, but all four of us aren’t in today?”

Keith shrugged nonchalantly, “people’ll probably think we’re shooting a video.”

“Right,” Zach rolled his eyes. “Without anyone rolling sound or any equipment, and after last nights drunken exploits.”

“I’m sensing a lot of hostility...”

“Yes, Captain Obvious. I left work because I’m feeling sick and instead of rest, I’m in the middle of a Ned intervention.” Sighing, Zach removed his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Look Ned, I love you, man, I do, but can we all just deal with this tomorrow?”

And Eugene could see that he really was sick. His skin was super pale and his hair in the front was sticking to his scalp, he was sweating so much. Which was weird, earlier he’d seemed fine and full of energy.

Zach had only had a glass last night and that was the whiskey they’d had during the video toast. Even then he’d only had a few sips, so he couldn’t be hungover. 

“Can someone just tell me what this is all about?”

Turning to Ned, Eugene realised that this really wasn’t the best time to do this. Ned was hungover and useless, they wouldn’t get anything out of him, and Zach needed to sleep.

Decision made, Eugene moved into the room. “Keith, help Ned up. I’ll text Ariel that he’s sleeping off his hangover at your place so as not to disturb her work and then we’ll go back to work.”

“But-”

“Zach’s right - never thought I’d say _that_. But we can deal with this after work and Ned’s sobered up.”

“You couldn’t resist the dig, could you?”

Eugene smirked. But even though Zach returned his quip, he wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Deal with what though?!”

Everyone chose to ignore Ned this time.


	4. Sleep deprivation and guilty projections

Zach took the rest of the week off and spent most of the time feverish in bed. He alternated from an unsettled sleep to hours of just crying from exhaustion and pain, only to slip back into a restless slumber.

When he’d requested the time off, he hadn’t realised his body actually _wanted_ rest. He’d wanted time to sort his thoughts about Eugene, instead his mind had been too tired to think. He hadn’t been sleeping well for months, because of his back. Most nights he was lucky to get a few hours of rest before he woke in pain and had to get up for work. The lack of sleep had caught up to him in the worst way, his body giving him the biggest fuck you he’d ever received.

He’d ingested all the cold medicine he had in his cabinet and survived on ibuprofen.

His bedsheets were disgusting. They soaked through the night and then dried around him during the day, but changing them had been out of the question. He hadn’t had the strength to do anything other than get water and go to the bathroom, because he drew the line at lying in his mess.

On one of his forays to the kitchen for a drink, he’d fainted and spent a few hours on the cool floor, really questioning if life was worth living if this was all he could do, before mustering enough energy to make it to bed.

His phone had long since stopped pinging with notifications as his energy levels hadn’t restored enough to get up to charge it when it died.

On Thursday, someone had knocked on his door and again there was someone on Saturday. But, on both occasions, he’d curled his pillow over his head and they’d given up after a few minutes. 

Now it was Sunday and he was feeling well enough to consider a shower and maybe some toast, but horrible enough to dread the coming Monday.

Dragging his legs over the side of the bed, Zach sat up without feeling faint for the first time since he’d been laid up. He cautiously stood and it was the strangest sensation - his legs felt solid and insubstantial all at the same time. They held him up, but he wasn’t sure how.

Stumbling towards the bathroom, he relieved himself and brushed his teeth. It wasn’t quite the same as a shower, but for now it made him feel almost human.

And that was how Zach spent the rest of the day. He stumbled through it. 

He stumbled into the kitchen to make toast. He stumbled into the shower, and once dressed, he stumbled to the couch to watch tv.

He’d opened the window in his bedroom to air it out, but still didn’t feel up to changing the sheets, which was why he’d escaped to the living room.

He was mindlessly watching a replay of some game, not really taking anything in, when a knock interrupted the announcer’s commentary. 

The knocker was being obnoxious. Zach’s head lulled back and measuring the distance from the couch to the door, he judged it to be too far. Turning back to the game, he hoped whoever it was would soon take the hint and leave.

“Open up! Zach, I know you’re in there, I saw the lights on from outside.”

The tv cast a soft blue glow around the sparsely furnished room and his curtains were opened. Zach cursed under his breath. Maybe he could bluff that he was asleep?

“Open this door right now, dammit, or I swear I’m calling the police. Either they’ll break this damn door down, or _I_ will!”

Dragging his feet towards the pounding that never seemed to cease, Zach threw the door open.

“Finally! Do you know how many times we’ve tried contacting you?” His muttered phone was dead went ignored, as Ned swept inside. “Texts, calls, messenger, even emails. We all dropped by after work, there was no answer. Keith and Becky tried to check on you yesterday, the same thing. What the hell, man, we didn’t know if you were dead or alive.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t try to break my door down earlier. If I’d actually been dead or dying, I know now I can rely on my friends to make sure my body is found before I’m fully decomposed.”

“That’s not funny. We were really worried.”

He felt like a piece of shit at the injured look on the other man’s face. He just wanted to rest up, so he could make it into work tomorrow, but that didn’t mean he should be a dick to friends who were just showing they cared. “Look, Ned, I’m sorry. I’m fine, really. Nothing a little rest couldn’t fix,” he tried on a smile. It felt too tight like a piece of clothing left too long in the dryer, but it was the only one he could seem to manage. “See? I’m not dead.”

Recognising it for what it was, an olive branch, Ned gestured towards the telly. “What are you watching?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. I was literally vegging in front of the tv.” This time when he smiled, it wasn’t forced, it was sheepish.

“Well, it’s sports,” Ned said it like that settled the matter and in a way it did. They shuffled towards the couch and started watching. Ned really getting into it and Zach just dozing in and out, but finding comfort in the other man’s presence.

* * * *

“You haven’t been eating.”

Zach returned from his bathroom break to one of Ned’s stern dad looks, the one he sometimes got when the Try Guys went too far. He was in trouble. He wondered briefly what had upset him when what he said fully registered. “What makes you say that?” He racked his brains. There really wasn’t anything that gave him away. There was even a plate in the sink from his toast earlier, which said he’d had a meal.

“If you were too sick to answer the door, I doubt you’d have the energy to wash any dishes. There’s only one plate in your sink and your fridge is filled with food that’s gone bad.”

“You know,” he tried to play it off nonchalantly, “maybe I was just wanting to recuperate on my own, maybe that’s why I didn’t answer the door. Or maybe I was out getting medicine, ever think about that, Sherlock?”

“Bullshit. You’re walking like a bloody newborn foal just finding it’s legs.”

“You know what, Ned? You’re annoying.” And right then, that was about the best rebuttal he could think of. It was actually quite sad, but he wasn’t feeling his best!

“This is what’s going to happen, I’m going to get some groceries and then I’m going to make you soup and you’re going to eat it all.”

The thought of food made Zach’s stomach roil. He’d barely managed to finish two pieces of toast. After days without sustenance, his taste buds were off and the bites he’d choked down had sat like stones in the pit of his stomach. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Either you eat it on your own or I’m going to force fed you.”

“This is not the tender loving care sick people need.”

“Tough.”

“Well, what do you want me to do then?” He was being sullen and he told himself not to, but Ned was being a bit of a prick. A well meaning one, but a prick nonetheless.

“Just sit there and not die.”

While Zach ate the chicken soup he’d made, Ned rummaged through his linen closet. 

“What are you doing?”

“Ariel said to make sure to change your bedding. Clean sheets always make her feel better when she’s sick, she thought it might help you. She would have come too, but her sister’s in town.”

Zach listened to him struggle with his dirty sheets and was both grateful and amused. It was all very domesticated. “You know, Ned, you actually make a great boyfriend.”

He chuckled, “a great husband, you mean.” When his laughter died abruptly, Zach didn’t need to wonder why long, as Ned popped his head back into the living room. “Actually, I wanted to thank you.”

“Um... you’re... wel- What are you thanking me for?”

He rounded the sofa and sat down next to him. “About the night of our two year anniversary. If you hadn’t looked after me that night, I think Ariel would have left me.”

“You told her?”

“Of course, I told her. If the harpies at work knew about it, it was only a matter of time before it’d make its way back to her. She deserved to hear it from me. At first she thought I was joking. And then she got angry, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry before. But when she started crying... God... I wished she would’ve just swore at me some more, you know?” He had a haunted look in his eye and Zach turned to his soup to get away from it. What did one even say? “To be honest, I don’t even remember much of it.”

“You were pretty drunk.”

“Yeah, you know Ariel came to work and questioned Sally about it?”

“She didn’t.”

“Yeah, she did. It turned into a mini interrogation. Sally told her she only saw me dancing with a girl and when she heard me call her by Ariel’s name, she stepped in and handed me over to you,” the twist to his lips was self-deprecating. “Ariel didn’t believe her, because she’s an intern and would want to keep me in her good graces. Even I wouldn’t’ve believed her. But she believed your photo.”

“Photo?”

“The one you sent of me sleeping.”

Zach remembered the photo. He’d been leaning over a softly snoring Ned, trying to see if he’d have the same reaction to him, as he’d had to Eugene. His lips had hovered only inches from his, when the phone went off. Guiltily, he’d started, and looking from Ned’s face to the phone screen, he’d seen it was Ariel, wondering where he was.

Taking a picture of himself and the sleeping Ned, he’d sent her a quick text that Ned was spending the night with him. Trying to act and sound like he normally would, he’d added a cheeky winking face. Then he’d hopped into bed, his heart beating painfully against his rib cage. 

He hadn’t been able to look at the other man or be near him after the almost stolen kiss. It was different from when they messed around on camera. For one thing, Ned wasn’t awake this time around, and another, it wasn’t a funny bit. Then there was Eugene’s kiss clouding his thoughts. Eugene had had an excuse, he’d been drunk; Zach was 100% sober.

He’d ended up spending the rest of the night on the sofa, trying and failing to fall asleep.

“If you hadn’t sent the photo, she probably wouldn’t have believed _you_ , if you told her I spent the night here.”

“Don’t mention it.” _Please_. Zach couldn’t met his eyes. He’d only sent the photo, because he’d felt bad he’d almost molested his friend while his wife was concerned about his safety. In some misguided idea of assuaging his guilt.

That was part of the reason he’d felt unusually angry towards Ned the next morning. If he had just gone home early like he normally did, Zach wouldn’t have been kissed by Eugene and in turn he wouldn’t have tried to kiss _him_ , and he wouldn’t be so damn confused.

Gulping the last of his soup down, he turned towards the blaring tv. “So that game, huh?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty sure it’s obvious by now... but I don’t know much about sports.


End file.
